Power
by Queenie's Broken Heart
Summary: Set when Quirrell was still a Muggle Studies teacher, the professor struggles to change the viewpoint of one member of his class with a very negative attitude towards Muggles. He knows he could do it if he had just a little more power ...


"_I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was." _-Quirinus Quirrell, from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, by J.K. Rowling.

According to J.K. Rowling, Quirrell was a Muggle Studies teacher before he took some time off his work, and it was during this time that he met Voldemort. But what was he like before that encounter?

**Disclaimer:** All J.K. Rowling's

**A/n:** So I hope you like this short little piece. As ever, I love feedback! Thanks for reading :)

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It was always unnerving, standing in front of a classroom of teenagers and trying to teach without sounding boring or patronising, and sometimes he felt like he always sounded this way. After all, Muggle Studies was hardly the most complex of subjects, a lot of it philosophical, and even more of it common knowledge, especially to the students he was teaching. They obviously already had an interest in Muggles if they were taking this course and it felt foolish to explain things like the role of a doctor to the class. But, it was on the course and he always stuck to the course.

"Your homework is to read chapter seven. Make notes as you do so. I will be checking," he instructed, his voice smooth and confident. He made sure it always was. "One moment, Selwyn!" He put out a hand to stop the sullen-faced youth exiting. "I'd like a word."

The boy shrugged and stood aside to allow the remainder of the class to leave. He had been moved to the class against his will, but Professor Kettleburn had declared him unmanageable and had asked he be removed from Care of Magical Creatures. Only Muggle Studies had been able to accept a new student.

As the last of the class filed out, throwing a contemptuous glance at Selwyn as he did so, Quirrell shut the door with a flick of his wand.

"Now, Selwyn. I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to remain in this class if you continue making such demeaning comments like that."

The boy appeared untroubled. "It was an open discussion," he argued carelessly. "You asked for our opinions. I gave you mine. _Sir_," he sneered.

"Selwyn! It unacceptable to denote Muggles as 'obtuse, moronic parasites'. Plenty of students in the class have Muggle relatives. It's incredibly insensitive."

"I didn't say it to be insensitive," Selwyn said, the corners of his mouth twitching. "As though Muggles would have brains enough to be insulted. It's my opinion, is all Professor, and if you're not able to take it you shouldn't have forced me to take part in the lesson."

"Your opinions," Quirrell moaned, "Are _wrong_. Were you not listening earlier? Muggles have harnessed the world around them to do incredible things. Today's lesson, the invention of the telephone, you have no idea how complex; how _genius_ that is. There is no place in my classroom for unfounded insults."

"_Unfounded_," whispered Selwyn softly. "But is there not proof Muggles are inferior beings? OK, let's take your example for instance, Professor. Telephones. The ability to hold a conversation miles apart. They finally figured it out one hundred years ago. Whereas we," he paused and gave the teacher a triumphant grin, "have been using fire to communicate for _millennia._"

"Enough! Consider this a warning. Behaviour like that will not be tolerated."

Selwyn shrugged his bag over his shoulder. "Is that all? May I leave, _Professor_?"

"Oh, go, get out of my sight!" Quirrell snapped, gesturing the door with his wand hand as the other was slammed over his eye in despair. Would he ever make an impression on these children?

As he heard the click of the door closing, he turned to face the map pinned behind his desk. Next year, he would take time off teaching, and get some practical experience. He trailed a finger over Albania, where he planned to venture into a forest with a dark reputation. He had a certain gift when it came to magical creatures and he would rely on this when the time came. He smiled, knowing that if he managed to be daring enough to explore such a place, controlling a class would be easy work for him.

That's what was missing in his life, that's what would make everything better – power. Control. He wouldn't have to put up with such disgusting nonsense from pupils like Selwyn when he returned. He would be able to put his foot down, and stand up for Muggles properly.


End file.
